


here comes the sun

by barbatoslatte



Category: Samurai Warriors (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Deathbed, Frustration, but it's not all that bad, how is that not a tag???, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:01:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27588527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbatoslatte/pseuds/barbatoslatte
Summary: The trees outside have red leaves now. Motonari remembers a time, a time that feels both so long ago and not so far, when he was outside, holding Takakage up so he could play with the leaves with his pudgy hands.He remembers that he had once dreamed of seeing Takakage grow up. But he hadn't realized until now that he had already grown up. In this war-torn era, he had had to learn to be mature. He is still young. He deserves a childhood.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	here comes the sun

**Author's Note:**

> i throw MORE angst at u bc i am evil >:)

The sun is rising in the far east. The golden rays dance across the bedsheets and floor, speckles of dust in the air. 

A knock on the door wakes him, and the door slides open to reveal Takakage, carrying a tray of food and a few books under one arm. He sits at Motonari's bedside and lays the tray of food on a table. 

Takakage is so busy these days, and so tired. The bags under his eyes make him look older than he is, and his clothes are faded and worn. Motonari can't blame him, for he used to work just as hard. 

"Father," Takakage says, "I brought you breakfast." 

"My apologies, Takakage. I'm not very hungry." 

Takakage looks at him with poorly concealed frustration, an emotion that is becoming more present on his face lately. "Father, you _need_ to eat. You haven't eaten anything these past few days and that's bad. If you would just listen to me, you'd --" 

Motonari raises a hand to stop him, and Takakage falls silent, his hand tightly clenched into a fist. It's not like him to be so upset over anything, but Motonari chalks it up to lack of sleep. He understands that all too well. 

"My son," Motonari says softly, "I think that you're in need of some sleep." 

"I'm not. I don't have time to sleep. I work, and I have to take care of you." 

"Oh? Am I a burden on you? I could always stay with someone else--" 

"No, I didn't mean it like that! I just..." Takakage runs his hand through his hair with a sigh. "Father, you're not just getting older anymore. You're sick. I'm trying to make you feel better. I've looked through everything I could find. But it's not enough. It's never enough. I can't find anything!" He slams his fist onto the bed.

Motonari covers Takakage's hand with his own. Takakage flinches a little, but doesn't pull away. "My son, you're working so hard, but the fact is simple: I cannot get better." 

He looks out at the window next to his bed as Takakage protests fervently, though his words fall on deaf ears.

The trees outside have red leaves now. Motonari remembers a time, a time that feels both so long ago and not so far, when he was outside, holding Takakage up so he could play with the leaves with his pudgy hands. 

_"My arms are tired, Takakage. You are getting older, and it is not as easy to hold you up anymore. It is lucky you are still light, but soon you will have to reach the leaves on your own."_

_"But Dada, how will I touch the weaves then?"_

_"You are growing so fast already, soon you will be as tall as me. Maybe even by tomorrow you will be tall enough."_

He remembers that he had once dreamed of seeing Takakage grow up. But he hadn't realized until now that he had already grown up. In this war-torn era, he had had to learn to be mature. He is still young. He deserves a childhood. 

Motonari interrupts Takakage's stream of protests. "Takakage, I want to apologize to you." 

"What for?" Takakage asks. 

"For everything." 

There is a silence after this, but slowly Motonari feels Takakage's other hand coming to rest on top of his. 

"Father, you don't need to apologize," he says, also now looking out the window. "Everything good or bad that's happened to me, I can forget it if I want to."

"Ah, but I can never forget," Motonari says with a sad smile. "I am told that people my age forget things, but this is one thing I can never let go of."

Takakage stands up, and he lays the books on Motonari's lap. "You may not be able to let go, Father," he says, "but did you think that it matters to me what you've done? You're the only father I have, and I'm glad for that." 

He leaves the room. The sun is higher in the sky than before.

It's sunset when Takakage finally stops working on his books and maps and makes his father's dinner. Motonari never eats it these days, but it's just habit by now. 

He knocks on his father's bedroom door, then steps inside. Orange sunlight is streaming through the open window, and it bathes the room in an almost ethereal glow. 

"Father?" he says, laying the tray down on the table. "I made you your dinner." 

There is no reply, and he looks up at his father. He's only asleep. An open book rests on his lap, his hand marking the page where he stopped. 

Takakage smiles for a moment, until he goes to grab the book from under his father's hand, and his own hand brushes against it. Motonari's hand is as cold as ice. 

Takakage drops the book. "Father?" He places a hand near his face, hoping to feel his father breathe, but there is nothing. The room is eerily quiet. 

"Father?" he says again, his voice shaking. His voice sounds too loud in the stillness. "Father, wake up. You have to eat." 

Nothing. 

"Father, _please_." 

He shakes Motonari a little. His vision becomes blurry and wet. 

"Father, I'm not leaving you this time. Please come back." 

The sun sets in the far west, and Takakage is glad, for in the dark, no one can see him cry. 


End file.
